


Touch-Starved

by Abi_in_the_Cosmos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Boners, Canon Compliant, Castiel also deserves a massage, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Dean Winchester Deserves Nice Things, Just a couple of guys touching each other, M/M, Massage, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, Sam Winchester appearance, Season 8/9, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abi_in_the_Cosmos/pseuds/Abi_in_the_Cosmos
Summary: ‘Uh, dude? Are you...?’ Sam cleared his throat, '...Massaging each other in here?’Dean has a mild injury so Castiel gives him a massage to try and help. But it stirs up more than just pain relief.Light-hearted, non-explicit but heavy with physical contact one-shot; Dean Winchester is so touch-starved it hurts.Set sometime around season 8/9 after the discovery of the bunker. Cas is an angel, Dean hasn't got the moc yet.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 67





	Touch-Starved

**Author's Note:**

> I just think Dean Winchester and Castiel deserve to feel physical affection and love, but they're too clueless to see that they could have it with each other. 
> 
> This started as a silly prompt of writing a massage without the smut and it really hit me that they are **so** touch-starved.
> 
> I appreciate and love hearing feedback, comments, and anything else.

### Touch-Starved

‘Hello, Dean.’

Dean sat hunched over the laptop in the library of the bunker, feeling the _whoosh_ of Castiel and glancing over with weighty, raw eyes.

‘Cas?’ Dean’s hand ran down the sharp stubble across his cheek. ‘Everything okay?’

The angel viewed the laptop screen. Dean side-eyed him, wondering what was going on in Heaven now to make him crash in during the middle of the night. Whatever it was, he seemed calm. There was no urgency in his steps, no ruffles in his feathers.

‘Are you injured?’ Cas asked, ignoring the question and turning to look at Dean with a tilted head, blue escaping his narrowed eyes.

The laptop was left open on Dean’s search for _best thing for shoulder pain_ and he closed the lid. Four hours earlier, he’d slammed a vamp into a wall and his arm landed crooked. It hadn’t been that bad at the time but now his back was stiff, sore, and radiated discomfort all over.

‘I’m good.’

‘Dean…’ Cas deepened his gaze to find Dean's lie and reject it.

‘I’m telling you, I’m fine. I’ve had worse.’

The hunter shifted in his seat, Cas holding him with a stare that Dean struggled to pull himself out from.

‘Cas, there’s nothing wrong-’ Dean cut himself off with a piercing _aahh_ as the angel's hand hovered against him. ‘What the hell?!’

‘You’re not fine. These muscles in your back are strained, some knotted.’

‘I’ll live.’ Dean twisted, wanting to stand up and pour a drink but a ripple of sour pain spread throughout. He grimaced, turning his head out of view from Cas and studying the table, waiting for the spasm to ease off.

‘Here, I can help.’

Dean huffed quietly as Cas planted a hand firmly on his shoulder. He expected the angel to heal the injury but instead he started kneading him gently. The perfect amount of pressure scaling down his back, soaking up aches like water into soil. Riding the sensation, Dean’s eyes closed with his brow stunned. As Cas continued treating him like dough, his face gradually softened.

‘How does that feel?’ Cas asked, incredibly nonchalant.

Dean re-opened his eyes, hoping Cas hadn’t noticed they’d been shut. The angel refocused to the other side, deliberately making patterns with his hands. Dean tensed under the touch, parting his lips to let a whisper of air escape. Breathing slow as nerves tingled in agreement.

‘Yeah,’ Dean finally managed to say, rolling his eyes at himself. ‘That's-that’s helping.’

Cas altered the direction of movement, spreading warmth as he applied pressure, then travelled upwards. He massaged his neck, fingertips sliding into Dean’s hair like sparks. The hunter pressed his forearm into the table, fist tightly wrapped up and trying to encourage stillness in his body. The buzz of skin-to-skin contact ricocheted through him, like a lightning bolt shooting out. He forced himself to breathe, to steady his heartbeat.

‘Is this painful?’ The angel asked, taking his hand away abruptly.

With a small exhale of pleasure, Dean shyly looked down and released his balled-up hand. It was fine, Cas didn’t know the depth of human touch.

‘Uh, no.’ -he unclasped his hand and scratched at the side of his jaw- ‘It was nothing.’

Waiting to see if Cas was going to resume, Dean wet his lips. The heat of the angel's hand returned and this time, Dean tried to keep cool but shivered as a thumb inadvertently slipped under the collar of his shirt. A moment later, Cas was back trailing down his shoulder blade, back on top of his plaid. 

‘You should be more careful, Dean. You are getting older,’ Cas reminded him with a poised voice. Both hands gently pulsing either side of his spine, crossing the bone with care.

Eyes resting shut again, Dean felt his sit bones push into the chair as he relaxed into what Cas was doing. Enjoying the pleasant and faint taste of comfort. ‘Gee thanks, Cas.’ He replied in a wispy voice. Stifling a groan of pleasure as Cas started long drives down. The last thing he wanted was to start making noises at the same freakin’ time as everything else going on right now, that would be all kinds of inappropriate.

‘The human body starts deteriorating at age 30 and I know you’ve gone past that…’ Cas continued, roaming his hands around Dean’s back and waxing poetic about the human lifecycle.

Dean wasn’t ignoring him, not on purpose. Entirely lost in the sensation of touch along his upper body, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had really felt him, put their entire palm onto his body without a desire to hurt. Someone handling his mess of bones, organs, and broken flesh with fondness. Someone he trusted. He suddenly remembered Cas saying _30_ and re-opened his eyes. ‘Wait, what?’ He mumbled.

Dropping his body to add tension, Cas worked his hands into the lower back. 'Nevermind,' He said, mouth close to Dean's ear.

The tone used should’ve sent Dean into a retort, but his eyes had firmly closed again and the gravelly sound of the angel’s voice reverberated nicely. Cas continued at a lazy pace; Dean aware of the angel's weight as those hands took their time climbing from the base of his spine to the tops of his shoulders. He steadied an enticing shudder as Cas hit a few nerve points, wanting to collapse onto the table.

‘Cas, where did you learn to do this?’ Dean cursed his shattered voice, divulging how effected he was becoming.

‘It’s just human anatomy, Dean. Targeting the source of the pain, stretching the muscle to help it loosen, increasing blood flow…’

Through his flannel, Dean felt the build-up of heat from Cas’s fingers as they drew into the muscles. Cas sprawled his hands, stroking outwards until he was around the hunter's hips. Cracking his eyes open low, Dean watched the angel skim across his abdomen. Dangerously close to feeling more of Dean than he probably expected. 

‘…Right,’ He replied. Increasing blood flow, that was one way of putting it. 

Dean viewed himself, body suddenly awake and tingling all over. Cas moved to the lower back, rubbing close to the band of his jeans. Dean found himself holding his breath. A familiar and needy burn became too intense and he flexed his wrist, squeezing his hand together.

‘Okay, Cas, that’s enough.’ Dean gently rocked himself forwards, causing Cas to lose touch whilst he covered himself with an arm. ‘I appreciate what you’re doing… but-’

‘I’m sorry, Dean,’ –Cas reappeared at his side, exchanging heartfelt glances between the hunter and the closed laptop- ‘I wanted to help and that website you had open suggested it.’

‘It did help. But touching like that can be… it’s kinda...’

Dean tried to think of the best way to phrase it, unable to stop himself from looking at Cas’s lips. They were so interesting, the shape, the fill of them. He blinked and drew up to find Cas watching, head angled to the side.

‘Sexually arousing?’ Cas suggested. 

Dean choked as the angel kept those bright eyes fixed, unmoving. His cheeks flushed and he clocked the table before returning back to Cas. The angel remained with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. Maybe he could sense it? No, that’s crap. Cas had the intuition of, well, not a human that was for sure.

‘Damnit, Cas.’ Dean said quietly. ‘Sit down, I’ll show you what I mean.’ He stood up, a quick tug on the hem of his shirt and ushering Cas to take his seat which he obediently did.

‘Dean, you’re injured-’

‘Relax, I’m not gonna do this for long.’

The hunter rolled his hands into fists, squeezing them as he stood behind Cas. He hadn’t given a back rub to anyone in a long time. He puzzled for a second, wondering when the last time was that he’d touched anyone without trying to kill them, or have sex? He pressed a palm into Cas’s upper back, would an angel even be capable of feeling the complexity of touch? Hell, why not find out? How much could he screw it up?

‘Dean, what is the point that you’re trying to prove?’

‘That a massage isn’t something you just give anyone,’ Dean replied. Not stopping to think first, focusing entirely on rotating his hands across Cas’s back. So far, a success, he was managing to do this without any spasms from the injured arm. He applied more pressure to get through the material of Cas’s coat.

‘I don’t understand, a massage is meant to help injuries, correct?’ Cas asked, sitting stationary.

‘Yeah, but normally you give them to, you know, people you’re dating or whatever.’

Dean looked at the top of Cas’s head, trying to see what expression the angel was wearing.

‘This doesn’t feel weird to you?’ Dean asked.

‘No, I don’t feel much at all.’

He moved both hands down the side of Cas’s spine, swooping downwards with firm resolve. No wonder Cas couldn’t feel anything, he was rubbing a freakin’ trenchcoat.

‘Okay, lose the coat.’ Dean dropped his hands, motioning the angel to remove it.

Cas turned around with one eyebrow raised. ‘You want me to take off my coat?’

‘Yeah, c’mon, man. You can’t feel squat through that thing. Take it off. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.’

‘Dean…’

‘Cas.’ Dean looked at him squarely until Cas frowned, shaking the coat off his shoulders. He still had at least two layers of clothing on. ‘...And the jacket.’

‘Is this really necessary?’ Cas replied, turning his back to Dean and removing the black jacket.

‘Look, trust me, okay?’

Placing hands back onto Cas’s shoulder, he was astounded by how much of the angel he could feel. Two additional layers really did cover the guy up. A bit uncertain of his actions, Dean started counting seconds spent on one area before moving to another. Trying to fall into a rhythm and applying compression where he knew he’d enjoyed it as the receiver. He moved to the lower back, driving softly into the muscle. The shirt dragged with his hands and Dean looked at the back of the angel’s head again. 

‘You okay? Feeling weird yet?’

‘Dean, this doesn’t feel weird to me.’

Dean rolled his eyes, stubborn son of a bitch. He increased pressure and tracked up the length of Cas’s back causing the angel to tip forward. Heading towards the neck, he remembered how electric the touch there had been and carefully massaged into the angel’s soft, tanned skin. How was he so tanned anyway? As he pushed aside an image of Castiel, Angel of the Lord, sunbathing, he saw Cas had dropped his head. With more of his neck exposed for Dean to have access to, Cas braced against the table with each motion until he was resting on his elbows. The hunter smirked, widening his hand to find more of him and using his thumb to make shapes. Maybe he was good at this after all.

‘Okay, well, how’s it feel if it’s not feeling weird?’ He smoothed his palms softly onto Cas’s shoulder blades and made his way lower. Copying more movements that the angel had given. He trailed all the way down and stroked out to the sides. Dean raised his eyebrows at how firm the muscle above the hips were before his fingers reached a waistband.

‘It feels pleasurable.’ Cas’s voice was breaking, popping a lump into Dean’s throat that he pushed down. ‘I’ve never experienced this before, it’s truly…very soothing.’

Dean couldn’t quash a half smile, though he tried, but he was feeling sorta awesome. It’s not often he'd do something that anyone would describe as _soothing_. He slowly ran fingertips up and down Cas’s spine a few times. Stopping every few moments to press all four fingers and thumbs into random areas on his back. Pinching harder each time. He heard Cas’s breathing get deeper, deliberate, and he leaned into it. Letting Cas guide, hands moving in tandem with him as the angel filled himself quietly with oxygen then released. It was kinda mesmerising, an angel wilting under his touch.

‘Dean,’ Cas said in a quiet, heavy moan.

Hearing his name spoken like that tasted of maple syrup dripping from a spoon, right into his mouth. Shit.

Footsteps echoed into the room, interrupting. Then a loud cough. They both turned to see Sam; hair knotted, pyjama shirt hanging loose over sweats, eyes half open. Dean dropped his hands, moving to the side of Cas. He morphed into a grin of _this isn’t what it looks like._

‘Uh, dude? Are you...?’ Sam cleared his throat. ‘…Massaging each other in here?’

‘What?! No… That’s just- no.’ Dean rambled, voice a pitch higher than usual. He saw Cas look up, his face slightly flush.

Sam stopped his bare feet from walking and scrunched his face. Eyes on his brother, then the angel, finally back to his brother. ‘You know, nevermind. I’m going back to bed. Dude, you have a room for a reason, just saying.’

Dean held his hand over his mouth for a second, checking Cas then shaking his head. ‘Well, that wasn’t awkward.’ 

‘That was definitely awkward, Dean. And you were right about the sexually arousing part.’ 

They shared an exchange, Dean’s mouth falling open as Cas looked sheepishly away. The hunter took a sharp breath, eyebrows arching. ‘You really found that to be-? I mean, angels, you can feel _like that?_ ’

Cas met him intently, nodding and looking feverish. 

Dean digested the words, remembering sweet tingles of Cas's hands on him, comforting his aches in a way nobody had ever done before. How the angel caused him to feel deeply into every fibre and nerve in his body. To relax, soften; be touched with affection. Only now, he had the knowledge that Cas could also be turned on and that was an interesting development. 

‘You wanna…continue?’ The hunter nervously asked, his voice this side of wrecked.

‘I’d like that a lot, Dean.’

#####  The End


End file.
